Thoughtcrimes: Skillet Blues
by reen212000
Summary: Okay, so Brendan did get hit with a frying pan in the movie, yes? Why is he driving? A tag for the movie.


So I was just going through some things, and stumbled across a few ficlets that I hadn't posted here. Hope ya don't mind, and please R&R!

------------------

Agent Brendan Dean is trying to determine when it was exactly he became a cartoon character. _:No one gets hit with a skillet. I actually think I saw stars...:_

"Brendan. Pay attention." Freya's voice sounded strained as it cut through the fog in his mind. She watched him closely since they left the scene. The EMT said Brendan didn't have a concussion, but Freya seriously doubted his training. "I think maybe we should pull over for a minute."

_:No. I'm fine. Just need the aspirin to kick in.:_

"Oh really? Why do you have one eye closed?" Was he seeing double? This would almost be funny if the man under her scrutiny wasn't looking at her cross-eyed. Who's idea was it for him to drive?

_:Don't worry. We're almost there. A place with cold water and hot coffee.:_

"I'd ask you more questions, but I'm afraid your head would explode."

_:Well, you may be right about that one. Seriously. I'm fine!:_

Freya leaned forward in the seat to look closely at the driver. "Fine, huh? Are you aware that you haven't spoken a single word out loud since we left?"

Brendan's blurry eyes focused on his companion. _:What?:_ Snapping his eyes ahead, he lifted his hand to his head. _:Oh my God, she's right. My head is going to explode.:_ "Maybe I should pull over."

"Good idea. There's a parking lot to your right."

Instinctively, he tried to turn his head, and was rewarded with pain. _:I can't... umm...: _His thoughts turned a bit frantic as he slowed the car. _:No concussion, my ass!:_

"You're clear on this side."

Brendan maneuvered the car into the small lot, slamming it into park. Leaning forward, he cradled his head in his hands. Distantly, he heard the car door open and close. Was she leaving? "Where're... mmmm..." He was unable to concentrate long enough to form words.

A blast of cold air leached the remaining warmth from his body. _:Breathe, breathe, breathe...:_ Images of his father, saying soothing words on several occasions. Trees, bikes, roofs, fights. His father's smile was not as coy as his son's smirk. Something told Freya he got that from his illusive mother.

Freya flipped the lever on the driver's seat and gently eased him back. She watched him breathe, trying to calm his heart; his head throbbed in time with every beat. _:Driving. Good idea, Brendan.:_

"I'll be right back." She tried to stop him from berating himself further. "Don't move."

Brendan wasn't sure how long she was gone, as he distracted himself with puzzles that made his head hurt a little less. Moving his arm over his eyes, he felt a twinge. _:Why does my arm hurt? Did I fall wrong? Oh yeah. Car accident. This case will be the death of me.:_

"I hope not, Agent Dean." Freya had returned with cold water and a handful of ice in a plastic bag. She gave him the water, and placed the ice just under his head. She smiled hearing his sigh of relief.

"Are there veins sticking out across my face? Gross I know, but I swear they're right on the surface." He passed a hand over the tight, aching skin.

"No veins, but you are more pale than when I first met you. Is this a normal occurrence, you and skillets? Should I be worried?"

Brendan chuckled. "No, it isn't normal, but, um... Maybe with you along, it might happen less?" he said sheepishly.

"Don't count on it, kid." Freya placed a hand on his shoulder. "You okay now?"

Blinking back to awareness, he moved his seat slowly upward. Taking a few more breaths, Brendan started the car. "Yeah, I'm good. We need to get back."

Freya moved back into the passenger seat quietly. Whether they liked it or not, they needed to finish with their case. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"I need you to remember the courthouse. Not just remember it... Picture it in your mind. I'll read your thoughts."

Brendan frowned. He disliked someone knowing his every thought, but if it meant a solution, he would let her. He gave her the exact details, and together they would solve this mystery.

--------------------

Yep, you know the rest... Can they just make one more movie? Pretty please?


End file.
